The Hawkeye and His Magician Chick
by Isys Skeeter
Summary: Crossover. Clint is given a deal to have a person he loved but had never had the chance to confess to back, by going back in time. Clint accepts and in return he adopts a magical child. A Hawkeye adopts Harry fic. Future Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
1. Prologue

**Summary:** Crossover. Clint is given a deal to have a person he loved but had never had the chance to confess to back, by going back in time. Clint accepts and in return he adopts a magical child. A Hawkeye adopts Harry fic. Future Clint Barton/Phil Coulson

**Spoilers:**HP (7 books), Iron Man (movies), Captain America The First Avenger (movie), Thor (movie I), The Avengers (movie). If you don't know the books or movies, go read and watch them!

**Beta:** MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun

**Disclaimer:** I have no right to any of the characters; they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee

**Pairings in this chapter: **one sided ClintB/PhilC

**Warnings in this chapter:** AU fanfiction, Crossover, Mention of Character Death

**Nr words in this chapter:** 540

* * *

"Talking"

_"Talking in another language than English"_

'Thinking'

–Parseltongue–

_Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_

Time change/Date of time

* * *

**Prologue**

4 May, 2012

Clint Barton looked at the other male he was watching over. Loki, a demi god, had handcuffs on his hands to keep him from doing magic and was sitting on the bed looking at Clint amused. Clint sneered wanting so much to just grab his arrows and shoot the damn guy for killing Phil Coulson. Clint huffed and looked away from the dark haired murderer. It was horrible to think that it was partly his fault that Coulson had died. The man he had allowed himself to have a thing for… dead.

"Agent Barton…" Clint glared at the trickster. "What if I told you that I could give you another chance with Coulson, hmm? Would you take it?"

Clint was sure that if looks could kill Loki would be dead right now. How could the man dare to mention Coulson's name after killing him?

"He's dead." He spat at the smirking, smug looking, demi-god, wanting nothing more but to slowly kill him.

A hint of a genuine smile appeared on Loki's face.

"But if you could have him in your arms this time around, would you chance it?"

"What about it?" Clint hissed, trying to sound uninterested but something inside of him tensed at the prospect of being able to tell Coulson what he really felt. What game could Loki be playing at? Giving him such futile hopes like this?

Loki gave him a Cheshire smile in answer.

"If you ever decide to take up my offer for having a chance to fight for Coulson do warn me… and it might better be before the tin man and the doctor finds a way to help gullible, foolish Thor in sending me back to Asgard. After all… I do know a way to bring you two together… or to be more exact; give you a second chance."

Clint frowned. A second chance? Did that mean return back in time? Would he do it? Have more time with Coulson and…

"What's the catch?"

Loki stood and approached Clint, looked at him straight in the eye and offered his arms, showing the handcuffs.

"A child. You get your lover and take in a child. You win both by accepting… you lose both – and I too, since I'll go to prison – if you refuse."

"Let's say I accept. All I have to do is take a kid in and you'll give me a second chance?"

"I vow on my magic that that is all there is to it… and the fact that the child you will be rearing is magical."

Clint frowned. Magic… he didn't exactly trust magic but if that meant…

"What's the kiddo's name?"

"He goes by the name of Harry Potter and he lives with his non-magic family. They know he's magical and mistreat him horribly for that – so technically you'll be doing the boy a favour. He lives in the land that was once known as Albion, though now you Midgardians call it England."

Clint looked down at the handcuffs, then up at Loki whom raised his wrists as if presenting a gift. Clint reluctantly released him, hoping that he wasn't doing something stupid. Loki smirked evilly, put his hand over Clint's heart and everything went black.

**(TBC)**

* * *

Hi

Was talking with MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun on Facebook Messages and was thinking of a Clint Phil fic I could write when suddenly I found myself typing directly to her Loki's proposal… and I couldn't stop myself from writing it xp

Next: Meeting Harry…

~Isys

* * *

Ps: If you want to keep updated on my fanfics or just talk to me or give me suggestions: **www(doc)facebook(doc)com/IsysSkeeterFanfiction  
**


	2. Chapter I –The Dursleys–

**Beta:** MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun

**Disclaimer:** I have no right to any of the characters; they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee

**Pairings in this chapter: **one sided ClintB/PhilC, PetuniaD/VernonD

**Warnings in this chapter:** AU fanfiction, Crossover, time travel,

**Nr words in this chapter:** 2.441

* * *

"Talking"

_"Talking in another language than English"_

'Thinking'

–Parseltongue–

_Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_

Time change/Date of time

* * *

**Chapter I**

**–The Dursleys–**

4 May, 1988

Clint woke with a groan, his whole body hurt and his belly felt like he was ready to throw up at any given moment. Then he felt a strong kick hit his hip. Clint opened his eyes and looked to the person who dared to assault him only to stop mid-way into his retaliating attack. Charles Bernard "Barney" Barton, his older brother, was right there looking down at him with a sneer.

"This is no time to sleep. Wake up!"

Clint nodded numbly and stood, not quite believing whom was before him. It had been years since he had last seen Barney. Clint looked around and there he was in the Carson Carnival of Traveling Wonders. He was back. Clint gasped when his Brother hit him in the back of the head.

"Hurry up, boy! We have work to do."

Clint hissed to himself, but followed. For now he had to play around. He needed to learn at what point in time he was, in regards to his former 'criminal family' and how to ditch them as quickly as possible. For that he needed money before he could get a laptop and start to look into finding his future child… a boy. His boy. He was really going to adopt a boy! Wining a son would make him have a second chance with Coulson, how could he refuse that?

"Hey, you're paid to work, not to sleep!"

"I'm going!" Clint hollered back, before running to his auto caravan, which was exactly as he remembered, quickly changed his clothes and scampered to the tent for his show.

**–CH–**

5 May, 1988

Clint looked at the newspaper not quite believing the date. He was 17, sure he was back to the carnival but he hadn't expected to be so young! He had to wait years to meet Coulson again. He would have to become a thief again to win SHIELD's interest AGAIN! Clint bit the bottom of his lips. He would have to do it anyway. But first things first. Clint drove to the airport and looked up the plate tickets to London. He had to get Harry first.

Clint knew that when he would return to America he would have to be careful because of his Brother, but for now he had stolen all the money his brother had on him and that he had found in the Swordsman and Trickshot's stashes. First he had to go get Harry, then he could worry on how to raise him. If Natasha was there she would know how to help him… Clint only hoped that Harry was already alive… and that there weren't that many Harry Potter's in England.

When Clint finally left the plane he couldn't help but miss SHIELD's airplanes, even Stark's Iron Man suit right now would came in handy. Heading up to the London public library he requested to use the library's computer, posing as a high school student. It helped that he didn't have any baggage except for a shoulder bag. It wasn't difficult for him with SHIELD's training and the fact that internet wasn't as protected as it was in the future – although it was so slow! – to find all the Harry Potters around. He focused on the ones under 11 and immediately found one that seems the most likely, since he lived in Surrey who lived with his Aunt and Uncle. His parents had apparently died in a car accident, though he wasn't absolutely sure it was an accident, his instincts telling him that there was more to this than appeared. From what he managed to find out the boy was a troublemaker. If this boy was really whom Loki wanted him to adopt then he wasn't a troublemaker but an abused child. And Clint knew all about that. Clint printed the boy's address and picture and left the library. After that he caught a lift in a lorry, the man was nice enough to find him another lorry-driver who would drive by the town he needed.

Privet Drive was the kind of town where Clint used to dream to live in as a child but as he had grown up he quickly learnt that the perfection that the people showed was only a front to their true personalities. Clint stopped in front of the 4 Privet Drive to look at the house. He couldn't enter just yet, he had to make sure this boy had magic first. He had to…

Clint gasped as a body collided against him. Clint looked to the side ready to snap when he saw a skinny boy with black hair, with the brightest green eyes and round glasses, with clothes at least four sizes too big was staring at him from the floor. The boy suddenly shook himself out of his dazed stupor, looked at Clint then looked back to the road behind him. He quickly stood up and ran away into the yard of 4 Privet Drive.

"GET HIM!"

Clint frowned and glanced back to see a fat boy leading a group of 4 boys that was running after the skinny boy. Clint narrowed his eyes and was ready to stop the kids when he heard an odd sound. Clint immediately shifter towards the noise, only to see that the green eyed boy had gotten himself stuck between the fence and the other boys. The waif-looking-boy, that surely couldn't be older than 6, looked back in fear as the fat piglet passed by Clint and was getting closer to him. Green eyes narrowed in determination before he turned around and jumped. The fence was almost as tall as Clint… and this brat managed to jump it, Clint smirked as the fat child screeched in fear and ran inside the house. Magic indeed. A little while later Clint watched as a skinny woman, with the tallest neck he had ever seen, storm furiously into the backyard.

"Boy!" she called and, like a well-trained dog, the dark haired boy appeared.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia?"

"Did you jump over that fence?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." The boy said again, this time in answer.

"Inside, your cupboard. Now! And you wait until Vernon arrives! What will the neighbours say when they found that you jumped over the fence to their backyard?"

Clint sneered and strolled into backyard, passing by the woman and putting a hand on the boy's shoulder, who trembled as if he wasn't used to positive touch at all. This was hardly surprising, really. Without giving the shrew a moment to yell or make a noise, he pulled the runt inside to the living room and sat on the couch with the boy at his side. The woman followed angrily, but just when she was about to open her mouth, he took out and pointed towards her the gun he had managed to steal from his brother. A good thing that in this time the police was a lot more lass then like in the future. The woman shrieked and paled considerably.

"We're going to do this in either two ways. You scream and I'll kill you, your Son and your husband when he gets home OR you stay quiet, serve me and Harry a cup of tea and some biscuits while we wait for your husband. When he arrives he'll sign the adoption papers and pass on the boy to me legally or I'll kill your three and take the boy anyway. And don't think of calling the police, that'll just make your son an orphan too."

There was a whole minute of silence as the woman took in what Clint had said and then she turned around returning not long later with a tray topped with a teapot, several tea-cups and a plate with biscuits. Clint offered the biscuits to Harry, having some himself and looked amused to the woman as she sat on the couch before him, white as a ghost with a tea-cup in her hands but not drinking it. Clint looked at the boy who was looking at him confused, not really understanding what was going on but enjoying his tea and biscuits. The boy looked like he hadn't eaten in days.

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm Clint, Clint Barton. You can either call me Clint or Father or Dad." The boy's eyes widened. "And no I'm not kidding, I'm here to adopt you. Just a little warning we're going to travel a lot so when you pack your bag, make sure it's light, so you can travel with it for hours."

The boy nodded uncertainly.

"Are you really going to adopt me?" the boy asked before he blushed as if realizing that he had asked a stupid question and lowered his head. "I'm sorry."

Clint glared at the woman who shivered under his frigid glare.

"Yes, Harry. And from now on, if you have a question feel free to ask. I will never punish you for making questions. Quite the contraire I will feel offended if you don't ask questions."

The boy nodded clearly embarrassed.

"Yes, sir."

"And one more thing." Clint said.

"What is it, sir?" the boy asked.

"No more sir."

The boy went deep red but nodded quickly.

"Yes, si… Clint."

Clint smiled amused and messed with the boy's hair.

"Are you sentimentally close to your surname?" The boy shook his head confused. "Good, then from now on you're a Barton."

The boy's eyes grew and Clint knew from experience that it was the surname that made the boy really believe. Clint heard the sound of something heavy descend the stairs and he turned to the woman who had palled, probably scared for her son.

"Mummy, why is the freak on the couch?" the boy demanded to his Mother.

Clint's eyes narrowed.

"Petunia." He hissed and the woman all but jumped. "You better take this freak from my sight or I might not control my finger." He threatened and the woman stood taking her son to the kitchen at once, serving him a cake and then taking him upstairs before returning to her couch.

Clint knew that the woman was insulted at the name he had used but her mother's instincts were stronger so she preferred so save her Son than to protect him from a name calling.

"Boy." The woman said after a while and Harry looked at her in instinct. Clint hissed he didn't like that he responded to be called like this. "Vernon must be just arriving. If you are going with Mr Barton you better go pack your bags." The woman said afraid of Clint's hiss.

Clint hummed and nodded at Harry who stood and all but ran to the cupboard under the stairs. Clint narrowed his eyes at seeing where the boy went to, but didn't say a thing.

"You aren't from His world." The woman said. "You use guns instead of… sticks."

Clint hummed, if he wasn't certain before now he was.

"No, I'm not magical."

"But you know about his freakiness."

"I know about his speciality and I'll do everything in my power to help him control it. And you say the F word again and I'll make you wish I'd killed you." The woman tensed but nodded. "How did his parents die? And don't lie about it being of a car crash, I've read all about it on Harry's files and it is obviously fake."

The woman opened her mouth several times and then she stood and approached a bureau where she took a letter from one of the drawers and offered it to Clint before sitting again.

"On the morning of November 2nd 1981, this was left on our doorstep with a baby, this baby was Harry."

Clint frowned and opened the letter reading it. It was a letter explaining how Harry's parents had been murdered by a dark wizard name Lord Voldemort and how Harry had been the sole survivor. How he had defeated Voldemort and because of that he was known in the magical world as the Boy Who Lived. It mentioned about the Dursleys and some kind of blood protection and how Harry needed it and all that kind of stuff. And how in his 11 birthday he was supposed to return to the magical world for a magical school named Hogwarts.

Clint looked up to the woman and showed the parchment.

"This was all the contact you had with his world?"

"We tried to send letters refusing, but they were all returned."

Clint hummed and saved the letter.

"His Mother was a witch, does that means you know how to reach the magical world?"

The woman sneered but nodded.

"There's a street in London. The Diagon Alley or something like that."

"Then later when we leave you will pay us a taxi for this street entrance, and how to enter."

The woman opened her mouth to contradict but thought better and nodded.

"If I accept this, we won't ever have to see either of you again, won't we?"

"Trust me. If it would be for me you won't see us ever again."

Petunia nodded and they heard a car driving and parking before the house. At once Harry returned and sat at Clint's side, as if scared that Clint would fled. Clint's eyes narrowed. He would have to teach Harry self-esteem. The door opened and a blond fat man with a farty moustache entered the house. The man's eyes immediately landed on Harry, who obviously wasn't supposed to be on the couch but before he could talk he saw the gun pointed at him.

"Mr Vernon, I presume. Please take a seat."

When the man sill didn't move, Clint pulled the trigger back in a threatening manner. Vernon finally started to walk towards the couch and sat next to his wife. Clint wondered how the man didn't smash his wife while they were in bed and then smacked himself mentally for picturing such image.

"Vernon, Mr Barton is here to adopt Harry. All he wants is for we to sign the adoption papers and a taxi to London and we'll never see any of the two and the boy's world ever again." Petunia hurried to explain and Clint let her.

Honestly he wanted to kill those monsters for hurting Harry, but he knew from experience that Harry was too young to watch him killing people, his Aunt and Uncle nevertheless. There was a moment as the man assimilated the request.

"Give me the papers." The man said and Clint had to contain his shiver at the man's harsh tone, sadly Harry wasn't as lucky as he was.

Clint pulled some of the papers he had printed in the library and gave them to the couple for them to sign. He had written in there how the Dursleys completely gave Harry's paternal tutelage to Clint and how they would never take the boy in again. It wasn't exactly official, but Clint was certain that when he would enter the wizard street he would find someone to go to that would make it official. When the two finished signing the paper, Vernon called a taxi as Clint went to pick Harry's bag. It was small and all the clothes he had inside were hand-down from his Cousin – he would have to look into that later – and a teddy bear that was most likely once from his Cousin. When the taxi arrived Petunia Dursley gave him the money and the directions for the street and Clint and Harry caught the taxi, driving away from that hellhole.

**(TBC)**

* * *

Hi

Was talking with MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun on Facebook Messages and was thinking of a Clint Phil fic I could write when suddenly I found myself typing directly to her Loki's proposal… and I couldn't stop myself from writing it xp

Next: Adopting Harry…

~Isys

* * *

Ps: If you want to keep updated on my fanfics or just talk to me or give me suggestions: **www(doc)facebook(doc)com/IsysSkeeterFanfiction**


	3. Chapter II –Henry Barton–

**Beta:** MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun

**Disclaimer:** I have no right to any of the characters; they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee

**Pairings in this chapter: **one sided ClintB/PhilC

**Warnings in this chapter:** AU fanfiction, Crossover, time travel,

**Nr words in this chapter:** 2.601

* * *

"Talking"

_"Talking in another language than English"_

'Thinking'

–Parseltongue–

_Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_

Time change/Date of time

* * *

**Chapter II**

**–Henry Barton–**

6 May, 1988

Clint opened his eyes when the taxi driver woke them up.

"We're here, sir."

Clint nodded before paying the man and picking Harry, seeing as he had fallen asleep. He exited the car to look around. So a black door between a bookstore and a florist… there. Clint approached while carrying Harry, his forehead against his neck, and opened the door with one hand. Inside he saw an old café that would make any normal person think twice of entering but he had eaten in odder places. Clint approached the counter and called down the bartender. Once the man got within earshot, Clint asked him for directions.

"American?" the bartender asked and Clint nodded. "Don't worry mister. Various people come around asking for directions, normally muggles, you see? So, here we are." The man said opening the backyard's door, he grabbed a stick and touched a brick in the wall. "It's pretty simple actually. Now you go ahead and you find a huge white building with the word Gringotts, the wizards bank. It is commanded by goblins so be careful how you speak with them." Clint nodded wondering what he meant by goblins. "In there they can officialise any papers you have for the right money and they also trade American gallons to British galleons so when your done came over, I have rooms over the café and your younger Brother looks like he needs something to eat and a good bed."

Clint looked at Harry on his lap and then he smiled at the bartender.

"Probably we'll do that. Thank you, sir."

"Tom. Everyone calls me that."

Clint smiled and then left, not really looking around much. It sure did look like it was taken from a fairy tale, but he wasn't here to do some window shopping, he had work to do. It wasn't hard to find Gringotts, the odd building was really easy to find actually. As Clint got closer to the door a goblin stationed nearby opened it for him. Clint nodded his head in thanks as he entered the building. It was an amazing piece of architecture, and if Clint wasn't pressed for time he would have stopped and looked around more. Clint approached a counter and waited for a goblin to answer him and when the thing finally deemed him worthy – after Clint had to move Harry to his other arm – Clint took the letter from the Dursleys and the adoption papers giving it to the thing. The goblin grabbed them and read them in silence. Then the goblin looked up to Harry and then back to the letter. Finally the goblin looked around to the others humans and then stood and signalled Clint to follow him. He took them to a private room and offered Clint a seat, which had Clint readjusting Harry into a more comfortable position in his lap.

"Mr Barton, am I correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"You aren't a wizard."

"No, I'm not."

"Then why do I feel magical traces on you?" the goblin argued with a raised eyebrow.

Clint hummed and looked at the sleeping Harry before turning to the goblin.

"The Demi-god Loki sent me back in time, giving me a second chance with the man I love, on the condition that I would adopt this particular boy."

The goblin's eyes grew and he grabbed a parchment at once starting to write on it. Clint had to contain his smirk, he had suspected that the non-magic weren't the only one veneering gods, apparently the wizards knew about the Demi Gods and veneered them – what was a good thing otherwise it would be odd to explain how he had it.

"You're taking Mr Potter to the US, I presume?"

"When I'll get enough money to travel us there, yes. And I would like to know where I can go in US to take Harry to magical schools." The goblin nodded continuing writing. "And I want him to take my surname."

The goblin looked up and then he grabbed another parchment.

"And Mr Harry James Potter is to keep his middle name?"

"Oh… no. Henry Phillip – with two 'L's – Sacha – with a 'C' after the first 'A' – Barton."

The goblin narrowed his eyes but returned to the parchment writing it down.

"Does Young Barton know of his magical inheritance?"

"No, his uncles never told him anything except that he was a freak."

The goblin's eyes glared at the parchment but besides that he didn't argue. Finally he grabbed another piece of parchment and gave it to Clint.

"Young Barton's adoption papers." Then he gave an id card that appeared from nowhere. "And his ids. If muggles police ask you may show them as they are official for both magical and muggle means." Clint nodded and placed them in his shoulder bag. "You mentioned money issues. Young Barton is the sole heir of the Potter family. His Godfather Sirius Black is the sole heir of the Black family not to mention a few other families that have made Young Barton their sole heir. So money won't be a problem." Clint's eyes grew. "I take it you didn't know about this."

"Definitely not."

"Young Barton is one of the – if not The – richest wizard in the world. I will take care of a continent portkey tomorrow for your safe travel to US. There I'll make sure Young Barton's future tutor will be there waiting for you two and to help you accommodate."

Clint hummed, for now it would work, later on he would worry how he would get SHIELD's attention so he would become an agent again.

"The bartender mentioned galleons?" he asked.

The goblin nodded and three coins appeared on the counter.

"The golden one is a Galleon, the silver is a Sickle and the bronze one is a Knut." The goblin looked up to make sure Clint caught on so far. Clint nodded. "There are 17 Sickles in a Galleon, and 29 Knuts in a Sickle, meaning there are 493 Knuts to a Galleon." Clint hummed and grabbed a pen and a paper from his pants, writing it down. "A Galleon is £4.93, a Sickle is £0.29 and a Knut is £0.01."

"Very well. So it's the magical currency, then?"

"Yes sir. I'll make sure that the tutor that will be assigned will know about muggle stuff so it will manage to teach both you about the differences between the two worlds and still teach Young Barton what he needs to know as a wizard and as an heir." At this the goblin grabbed another parchment and offered it to Clint to sign and then a small coin bag appeared that he offered to Clint with a key. "This is the Potter's vault key. Gringotts has a branch in the US if you go there you can access to your UK vaults as long as you have the keys. In the coin bag there is 50 Galleons, 100 Sickles and 500 Knuts for in case it is needed. The Leaky Cauldron rents rooms and serves meals, I would advise you to stay there for the night and in the morning pass by a clothes shop and a bag shop and request for a stretching un-weight bag, before passing by the library and request by some books about the wizardry world. By afternoon I believe I'll have everything ready."

"Thank you, sir." Clint said and after that he left, going to the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry woke up at the promise of food and the two ate in silence. Clint knew that he wasn't the most talk active person sometimes… and others he was too much but this boy ate his food in silence and although he obviously had questions he didn't ask them.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Clint?"

"When I was at the bank I changed your name, between other things." Harry nodded. "I changed it to Henry Phillip Sacha Barton."

Harry frowned in thought.

"May I ask why?"

"You may always ask why, Harry." Clint retorted amused. "Henry as Harry is a possible diminution for Henry, the others being Howard, Harvey, Hadrian and Harrison. Howard makes me think of Howard Stark and knowing Tony Stark, his son, that wouldn't be a good idea, besides I like Henry." Harry hummed biting on his pumpkin pie while not taking his eyes from Clint. "Phillip as that is the name of someone special to me. Sacha because it's Russian and because its Greek meaning means avenger."

"Why avenger?"

"It was a nickname me and my friends – to which one of them was Russian – called ourselves." Clint answered while sipping from his Butterbeer.

Harry nodded and then his eyes grew, looking behind Clint. Clint turned to see the bartender using magic to move a trunk.

"How can he…?"

"Magic. That's what you have. That's why you managed to jump the fence this afternoon and these people have the same power as you do."

"Really? Does that means I'm no…?"

"Yes, Harry. You're no freak. And don't ever dare to think of yourself like that again." Harry blushed but nodded. "Tomorrow we'll buy you a few books that will explain about magic, but for now we'll finish eat and go to bed in our room, to sleep."

Harry nodded with the biggest of smiles and turned back to his food. A couple hours and he already trusted him so much… how badly the Dursleys had really mistreated him?

**–CH–**

After he clothes shopping, and Clint making sure the woman gave them mostly muggle clothes, they walked to the bookstore, having passed by the bag shop previously so they would have where to put the clothes. As they walked with their new clothes on Clint stopped before a shop. Harry looked at him confused and then to the shop window only for his eyes to grow going deep red.

"I don't really need…" the boy started but Clint had none of it and grabbed the boy's hand and pulled him inside the kids shop.

"Sir, I would like to buy Henry a new toy." Clint said to the clerk.

The woman turned to Harry with a smile.

"Any idea what you would like, dear?" Harry shook his head, still deep red. "Well don't you worry, dear, I'm sure we'll find just the thing you want."

Clint stayed by the counter as the woman took Harry around the shop, Harry was 8 years old he needed toys. Finally the boy returned with three toys in his arms that he put on the counter clerk and looked at Clint wondering if it was too much. Clint took his coins bag out as he looked the objects, a box with a train set, a box with a small Quidditch set – Clint would have to look into that, it looked like a sport of some sort – and a plush snake in tones of green 3 feet tall and 5 inches wide. Well… as long as the boy was happy.

"How much?"

In reaction Harry's eyes grew and he hugged Clint around his leg close. Clint blushed as the woman smiled.

"All together it's 5 Galleons and 17 Sickles." Clint took the money to pay as the woman turned to Harry. "You have a really good older Brother. Now don't forget to be a good boy to him and do as he says so."

Harry nodded with a huge smile, not letting go of Clint's leg – what was really an odd position.

"I won't, ma'am. Clint is the best Dad ever."

The woman's eyes grew and she turned to Clint at once embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I thought… and you are so young…"

Clint smiled and gave her the money.

"Looking young doesn't make me young, ma'am." He retorted, because technically in mentality he was past 40.

Clint grabbed the plush snake and gave it to Harry and then save the others in the expandable bag before leaving with Harry going to the bookshop – forcing Harry to release him and grabbing his hand to keep him close as suddenly the alley had increased in people. When the two managed inside the bookshop Clint turner to Harry amused.

"So I'm Dad now?" he taunted and Harry blushed nodding.

"You said I could've."

"I did. And I approve. I'm just surprised you were so quick to name me it." Clint answered truthfully and pushed Harry to the counter clerk. "Good morning."

"Good morning, mister."

"I just found that my Son is a wizard and we need books on magical world, etiquette and others things of the like."

The clerk smiled and showed them to a bookcase and picked several books that flew to the counter clerk.

"A few history books as well, I suppose." The man added and Clint nodded as the man grabbed two books that flew as well.

"In fear of sounding stupid, but what is Quidditch?"

The man looked at Clint confused and then he grinned and took them to sports bookcase and grabbed one book name 'Quidditch Through the Times'.

"Quidditch it's the Wizardry game. In this book it both explains how the game is played and gives a little history about it. It's new in the market and it's a little more expensive but unlike the others books it has both things in one single book."

"Not an issue." Clint answered and the clerk smiled, letting the book fly to where the others were. "What about portkeys? I just heard the term yesterday and don't understand it."

The man showed a finger as if remembering something and all but run to another bookcase and returned with a book about 'Wizard World And It's Travelling Ways'.

"A good book written for muggleborns and muggles to explain to people like you how our ways of travel works. Now portkey, the one you've heard is…" the man started to pass pages until he opened on one "_an instrument that transports you from one place to the other magically, normally used old things like an old boot so muggles won't feel like touching them. One single touch of a finger is enough for transportation and normally it feels like a hook pulling you from your bellybutton. Warning, for the first times don't eat before travel._"

Clint and Harry traded a look.

"Deadly noted." He said, making the clerk close the book. "We'll take that one as well. And maybe some children books. Henry is…" Clint turned to Harry, almost saying 6. Harry really looked younger than he was maybe after eating a little it would change.

"8 years old, sir." The boy said trying to make himself look taller.

"I have just the book for you, Young Henry." The man said before disappearing to another bookcase. He returned not long later with a small book. "The Tales of Beedle the Bard." The man said offering it to Harry who picked it looking at the cover where various draws were moving. "Almost every child your age knows those tales, they're really good and have been passing from generation to generation. Of course there are others tales more youngers but…"

Harry smiled at the man, hugging the book to his chest.

"Thank you, sir."

Clint smiled.

"Well, I think this will be all."

The man nodded and took them to the counter where he put all the books in a box before Clint paid and the three went to a café to eat something light. Clint looked at Harry as he opened his new book and started to read at once as they waited to be served and grabbed himself the magical newspaper from the next table and started to read.

**(TBC)**

* * *

Next: Harry's tutor…

~Isys

* * *

Ps: If you want to keep updated on my fanfics or just talk to me or give me suggestions: **www(doc)facebook(doc)com/IsysSkeeterFanfiction**


	4. Chapter III –His Dad–

**Beta:** MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun

**Disclaimer:** I have no right to any of the characters; they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee

**Pairings in this chapter: **PD/VD

**Warnings in this chapter:** AU fanfiction, Crossover, time travel,

**Nr words in this chapter:** 2,721

* * *

"Talking"

_"Talking in another language than English"_

'Thinking'

–Parseltongue–

_Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_

Time change/Date of time

* * *

**Chapter III**

**–His Dad–**

6 May, 1988

In the morning Harry woke up to hear something outside, it was so big that it shook the whole room. Harry closed his eyes tight and pulled the blankets over his head. No… he didn't want to wake up. He was having such a great dream! This stranger… Clint Barton had appeared at his uncles' house and had adopted him. Had even changed his name! Tears run down Harry's face. If Dudley was descending the stairs that meant that in no time he was going to be forced up by Aunt Petunia to prepare breakfast. No more Clint Barton and no more adoption…

Harry shivered at hearing the sounds of steps on the floor and closed his eyes tighter, curling himself into a ball under the covers and moving as far away as possible from the cupboard door as he could. Suddenly the covers were pulled away and something sat down next to him. Harry frowned in puzzlement. Why would his Aunt sit on the floor? When had she opened the door? Had she called him earlier and he hadn't hear her? Did he have a fever again? Oh no! That was really bad... That usually meant bad things for him.

"Hush… It's just the train." A male voice murmured soothingly, before a warm body laid down next to him; gently making him uncurl and hugging him to his chest. "Hush. I'm here."

Harry hiccupped. That voice… Harry grabbed Clint's shirt and cried into his chest. This was real!

"Scared of trains?" The man asked as he slowly rubbed Harry's back with his hand, while Harry started to calm down.

"I… I thought it was Dudley descending the stairs over my cupboard." He mumbled ashamed.

Clint hummed and pulled the blanket over the two.

"Well. I'm not going anywhere, Harry." The older teen said, hugging Harry closer. "I will do everything in my power for you to never be sent to them again."

"Promise?"

"I promise, kiddo. Now sleep, it's still early."

**–CH–**

Harry entered the toy shop, feeling ashamed as Clint asked a General Help Lady to help Harry buy something. Harry was certain that he was so red and so hot that he could fry an egg on his face.

"Any idea what you would like, dear?" Harry shook his head, still feeling ashamed. He didn't want anything, Clint had already given him so much… "Well don't you worry, dear, I'm sure we'll find just the thing you want."

And with that the woman pulled Harry deep into the shop, showing him a corridor with various toys of the same kind. The woman showed him various broom-toys that according to her any boy his age would have, something about Quidditch. Harry wasn't sure why kids his age wanted a broom so he decided that the box with the game-set as his best bet. He didn't want the woman to find out that he didn't know what Quidditch was. The woman seemed surprised that Harry hadn't chosen the broom-toy over the box game but accepted it and started to walk back with Harry. On their way back Harry saw a train-set in a box, it had the rails and everything! Harry stopped and grabbed it, turned it upside down and looked at the back to see how many batteries it needed, he didn't want Clint to spend too much money with it after all.

"That's a very nice train set, my dear. You have a good eye. This one is build so the child only needs to offer the train his magic and it moves… as long as it is in the rails that is."

Harry looked at the woman and then to the train, he couldn't take two games… it was too much!

"Don't worry, both games aren't really expensive. I'm sure that if you ask your Brother he'll let you." The woman added as if understanding what Harry was thinking.

Harry blushed but nodded. Clint looked like a teen, so it would be odd to explain to the woman that he was his Father instea… d. Harry tensed as the woman started to pull him again. Clint was his Father. He had told Harry that he could call him Father or Dad. Clint wanted to be his Dad. Clint wanted Harry. Clint didn't mind about Harry's freakiness. Clint was an adult who wanted Harry, for Harry… not because of the Dursleys… but for HARRY.

"You look like the kind of boy who likes plush toys, am I correct?" Harry looked at the woman surprised. "Well, normally the first things any boy wants it's a broom so they could fly, you know? So either you already have one, though I doubt it sine you didn't mention it, or you could be more into plush toys." The woman smiled and guided Harry to another corridor. "Nothing to be ashamed, of course. If you don't want the Quidditch set we can leave it on the counter and I'll put it away later."

Harry nodded embarrassed while looking at the plush toys that filled the whole corridor. Suddenly the memory of his teddy bear came to mind. Harry went directly to the bears. His own plush, not a second hand from Dudley because his cousin didn't want it anymore… Harry was going to pick a small one when he stopped. Right under the bears' hangers on the bottom of the exhibitor there was a plush snake. Its skin was in various tones of green and it was so well done that it looked real, Harry had to think twice to realize it was a toy. Harry picked it with one hand, while shuffling his toy boxes to the other. It's eyes were ruby red and so brilliant that seemed alive. Harry wasn't sure why, but it remembered him of someone.

"You really are one of a kind, aren't you?" Harry looked up to the woman, confused. "No one ever chosen the snake plush, it's been there for as long as I can remember."

Harry looked at the plush snake again and then hugged it to his chest with one arm. The woman smiled amused and took Harry to the front row where Clint was waiting for them. Harry put the boxes and the plush on the counter and looked at Clint afraid that he would think it too much. Harry was surprised at seeing Clint take the coins bag out as the man inspected the games and the plush. Harry made sure to put the Quidditch set apart from the others, he didn't want to ask too much of Clint after all, even if the man wanted to be his Father…

"How much?"

Harry's eyes grew wide. Clint hadn't even thought twice! Harry hugged the man the highest he could that was around his leg and as tight as he managed, closing his eyes tightly. Clint didn't just want to take Harry in, he didn't just want to dress Harry and to feed him. He wanted Harry and would make sure to sustain him the best he could. Like the Dursleys did to Dudley. And even if it was only three toys – Dudley used to have at the least 20 – even if it would be just one, it showed Harry how much Clint wanted him and liked him.

"All together it's 5 Galleons and 17 Sickles." Harry opened his eyes to see a blushing awkward Clint take the money to pay as the woman turned to Harry. "You have a really good older Brother. Now don't forget to be a good boy to him and do as he says so."

Harry nodded with a huge smile, not letting go of Clint's leg. Clint was the Best!

"I won't, ma'am. Clint is the best Dad ever."

The woman's eyes grew and she turned to Clint at once embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I thought… and you are so young…"

Clint smiled and gave her the money.

"Looking young doesn't make me young, ma'am." Clint retorted in his American accent and Harry was surprised that the man didn't comment on the name Harry chose to use. He had expected the man to be surprised or something, but to not react at all?

Harry looked as Clint grabbed the plush snake, persuaded Harry to release his leg before he gave him the plush and then saved the two boxes game set in the bag. Clint quickly nodded his thanks to the woman and left with Harry to the alley where he immediately grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him close because of the suddenly increasing in people outside. Finally, after Clint managed to force them both between and through the bustling crowd, they arrived at the bookshop and quickly entered. Luckily it was empty. Harry saw as Clint released him and turned to him amused.

"So I'm Dad now?" he teased and Harry blushed, nodding.

So Clint did notice the name he had called him.

"You said I could've."

"I did. And I approve. I'm just surprised you were so quick to name me it." Clint answered truthfully.

Harry was surprised, was he expecting for Harry to take longer at calling him Dad? Well it didn't matter, Clint wanted to be his Dad and Harry wanted a family that wanted him. How could Harry not make the most of it… for both of them?

**–CH–**

"Can I have a wand?"

"What?" Clint asked, looking up from the newspaper the man was reading, towards Harry.

Harry blushed and showed the 'fairy-tale' book.

"Here says that every wizard has to have a wand."

Clint frowned and from the little Harry knew from the man he was thinking.

"We'll talk with the goblin about that later." He said and Harry frowned.

"Goblin?"

Clint grabbed a book from their bag and handed it to Harry. Harry looked at the volume of Magical Creatures and opened it looked at the index for goblins before opening on the page.

_Goblins are a highly intelligent race of small hominids with long fingers and feet that coexist with the wizard world. Their diet consists of meat, roots and fungi. Goblins converse in a language known as Gobbledegook, and are adept metalsmiths notable for their silverwork; they even mint coins for Wizarding Currency. Due to their skills with money and finances, they control the Wizarding Economy to a large extent and run Gringotts Wizarding Bank._

_Goblins have their own type of magic and can do magic without a wand. They are represented by the Goblin Liaison Office of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in the Ministry of Magic. Goblins are short and fair-skinned, as they spend very little time outside. They have very long fingers and feet, dome shaped heads and are slightly larger than house-elves. _

_Throughout the history of the Wizarding world, there have been several goblin rebellions. These rebellions were most prevalent in the 17th and 18th centuries. One rebellion, in 1612, took place in the vicinity of Hogsmeade; the Three Broomsticks Inn was used as headquarters for the rebellion. The rebellions have been described as "bloody and vicious". The names of the rebels tend to run along the lines of "Bodrod the Bearded" and "Urg the Unclean"._

_Overall, goblins' idea of payment and repayment are not the same as humans. Goblins dislike theft, but use a different definition of the word. By goblin standards, the maker of an item, not the purchaser is the rightful owner; the purchaser is required to return the item to its maker upon his or her death. Goblins believe that the wizard paying for a goblin-made artefact is merely renting it, not owning it. Goblins consider the passing of an item from one wizard or witch to another without further payment to its maker "little more than theft"._

Harry hummed, closing the book again.

"Do I still get to have a wand?"

"Last person I knew who had magic he didn't use a wand but a staff…"

Harry looked up to Clint admired.

"Who is he?"

"Loki, a Demi-God." Clint explained, looking up from his newspaper and Harry shivered, that usually didn't mean a good thing. "I'm not going to hit you, kid." Clint groaned angrily and Harry shivered at his harsh tone. "Listen, I'm not your uncles. I won't ever do to you what they did previously." Harry nodded unsurely. "Now that we got that covered… Loki is from another world… also known as Asgard. And yes, he is real, very much real." Clint looked around to the others and then again towards Harry. "He was the one who advised me to adopt you. And I have to say that it was the best thing that ever happened to me." Harry blushed. "Even if you have: low self-esteem, is afraid of a person lowering his newspaper and respond to someone calling you "boy" like a well-trained dog." The man added teasingly. "But don't you worry, chick, I'll teach you better." He finished confidently.

Harry went deep red and nodded.

"Chick?" he couldn't help but ask and Clint grinned.

"Well, that's the name for baby birds, isn't it?"

"But I'm not a bird." Harry argued confused.

Clint smirked.

"You may not be a bird… more like a snakeling…" the man added the last part pointing to the plush snake on Harry's arms, making Harry blush. "But I once went by the name of Hawkeye and as you are my son… makes you my chick. My magical chick."

Harry's eyes grew surprised.

"Oh… Why Hawkeye?"

Clint pointed to his own eyes.

"Have a really good eyesight. I'm a marksman."

Harry hummed.

"I suspected that… so you work for the police?"

"Do I look like I work for the police?" Clint argued amused.

Harry snorted, picturing Clint in a police suit.

"Yeah, I guess not. So how you work?"

"I used to work on a circus… but now I left and have you."

"So we'll going back?" Clint shook his head, his face going cold. "Why not?"

Clint grabbed the newspaper again.

"You should eat your lunch, chick." The man said sipping from his beer.

Harry's eyes grew wide but did what he was told, knowing that he had somehow crossed the line with his question. So circus old stories were out of the list to talk about…

**–CH–**

Harry followed Clint into the white odd building with the letters Gringotts on the front. As they entered the second door to a hallway filled with counters were creatures - that from the book description only could be goblins - were behind working. Harry grabbed Clint's hand while holding his plush close and Clint pulled him to one of the counters. They waited for the people before them to be catered and then moved to the counter. The goblin looked at Clint, at Harry and then signalled them to follow him. They entered a sideway door and at once Harry bowed before the creature.

"May your money grow." He said, trying to sound polite.

The goblin looked at Harry surprised, but bowed back.

"And may your vaults never go empty." He said before he moved to the desk, next to the desk there was a blond grey eyed woman in a blue robe. "Bartons this is Mrs Callisto Lovegood. Mrs Lovegood these are the Bartons, Mr Clinton and Young Henry."

Mrs Lovegood stood with a smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you two." The woman stated with a bow of her head. "You may call me Kari."

Clint raised an eyebrow.

"And why are we meeting you?"

"Oh, of course. Griphook contacted me to warn me of Young Henry's need of a magical tutor. My parents were both squibs - that are children of wizards with no magic - so I was taught both in the Wizardry World and the Non-Magic World - or like the wizards call it; the Muggle World. I have a young daughter around young Henry's age and I would be enchanted to by young Henry's tutor both in muggle and wizardry ways. I was once in Muggle School after all, I do know how they teach and how they see the world."

Harry didn't know what it was about this woman but he liked her already. He grabbed Clint's hand again and the tenseness in the man's shoulders disappeared.

**(TBC)**

* * *

Hi

I'm not sure if Luna's Mother has a name, but if she does then my mistake because this is the name I'm calling her.

Next: Halloween…

~Isys

* * *

Ps: If you want to keep updated on my fanfics or just talk to me or give me suggestions: **www(doc)facebook(doc)com/IsysSkeeterFanfiction  
**


	5. Chapter IV –Halloween–

**Beta:** MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun

**Disclaimer:** I have no right to any of the characters; they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee

**Pairings in this chapter: **one sided ClintB/PhilC

**Warnings in this chapter:** AU fanfiction, Crossover, time travel,

**Nr words in this chapter:** 4,108

* * *

"Talking"

_"Talking in another language than English"_

'Thinking'

–Parseltongue–

_Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_

Time change/date of time

* * *

**Chapter IV**

**–Halloween–**

Last week October, 1990

Clint looked up as Harry opened the door of their motel room to see Kari's entering with her young daughter Luna. Harry grabbed Luna's hand and pulled her to his corner where he had saved his games and the two started to play at once. Clint grabbed his 'work' bag and looked at Kari with a raised eyebrow.

"See you in a couple hours." The woman returned with a smile.

Clint nodded and approached Harry kissing him on the top of his head before leaving the motel. His chick was growing up to be a fine boy…

**–CH–**

"Hello Harry. How are you today?" Kari asked, making Harry grin up towards her.

"I'm great, Kari. Guess what?"

"You know I'm not very good with guessing games, Harry."

Harry blushed.

"Dad is going to buy us an Addams Family costume for us to dress up on Halloween." He explained excited.

"Really?" Luna asked. "Mum can we buy our own set? So we'll match Harry all the way from England?"

"Well…"

"Please…" Harry and Luna begged and Kari sighed.

"Oh well… if you and your Dad are going as Pugsley and Gomez I guess we can go as Morticia and Wednesday."

"What about Dad?" Luna asked.

"Well, I'm sure you'll Father will love to play Uncle Fester… or Lurch, you never know with Xeno." Kari added thoughtfully. "But now it's time to work, children. Harry, you had homework to do."

Harry nodded eagerly, ran towards his desk table, grabbed his notebook and returned, giving it to Kari on his homework of the week.

"Well, go put on the music, we'll start with dancing lessons."

Harry groaned but nodded, going to put the CD player on and then offered his hand towards Luna.

**–CH–**

Harry woke up at hearing someone enter the house, Harry opened one eye to see Clint nod his head at Kari as the woman picked up Luna and left. Clint approached his own bed and collapsed on it, he was obviously tired.

"Dad?"

Clint looked up at Harry, smiled and laid on the bed next to Harry. Harry leaned against his Dad's arms as the man hugged him.

"You should be asleep."

"You know I'm a light sleeper." Harry argued. "How was work?"

Clint shrugged from his odd position.

"Good. Did what I needed to do…"

"Isn't it odd?"

"Odd?"

"To kill people for money?"

There was a moment of silence and then Clint sighed letting his head rests on Harry's hair.

"Sometimes I forget how smart you are, chick. I was taught to be like this. I know that it is odd to understand. But that's how life is. A lot of questions, and very few answers."

"Do you still love him?"

There was a moment of silence as Harry knew that Clint was wondering what to say.

"Yes."

"But whoever this Phillip guy was, he's dead! It's been years since you last saw him, Dad!"

"DON'T!" Harry shivered as Clint forced him on his back leaning over him. "Don't say that…" Harry nodded, trying to control his tears. "Oh… Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't meant to…" Clint hugged Harry close. "I'm so sorry, chick! I didn't meant to scare you… I love you more than anything, you know that, right?"

"Yes, Dad." Harry mumbled against Clint's chest. "You know… he would've want you to move on."

"Harry…" Clint hissed in a warning.

"No, Dad. I'm sure he wouldn't want you to stay like this just because you can't be with him. He would've understand that you need to move on. Hell, Dad, you need to move on!"

Clint raised himself on his hands, looking down on Harry.

"And it's in moments like this that I hate that you sound so much like him!"

Harry pouted.

"Why is that?"

"Because you make me feel like a petulant child, like he used to do. You seem wise talking with me like that… in that tone."

"I guess that's why you liked him, Dad."

Clint grinned and Harry relaxed, he wasn't angry at Harry anymore. Clint leaned down and kissed Harry on the forehead.

"He would've loved you, you know?"

"Magic and all?" Harry argued. "Wasn't magic what killed him in the first place?"

Clint nodded.

"Phillip was the kind of person to see way past that."

"If he would've survived…"

"Harry…"

"Just listen to me. What if he would've survived the attack but it was hidden from you and your friends… didn't you say that his death was what made you all unite?"

Harry saw as Clint frowned in thought.

"I wouldn't put it pass the director to do it…"

"Do you regret leaving all that to find me then?"

Clint grinned amused.

"No, I don't." Harry smiled back. "Having you was the best thing that ever happened to me… nightmares and sulking and all."

"I don't sulk!" Harry argued with a blush.

"No, you just brood."

"Dad!" Harry whined, making Clint grin amusedly.

"There, there my dear Chick… no need to grow embarrassed and scream my ears off."

Harry glared at his amused foster Father and looked the other way, refusing to look at the smug jerk.

"If Phillip was here he wouldn't have let you treat me like this." Harry argued, and no, he wasn't pouting, that was unbecoming.

"If Phillip was here he would've known what to say and how to say it to put both of us in our place and make it seem like it was our decision and not his." Clint argued amused.

**–CH–**

Next night

Harry looked at the man that his Father was talking with. He looked like he was in his middle forties and Harry was sure was old enough to be hisDad's own Father, but the man was still hinting on Clint as if it was normal to flirt with a 19 years old male. Harry sighed and grabbed his juice bottle sipping from it. He did tell Dad to move on, but hell…

The mid-forties man was Caucasian with dark brown hair, sprinkled with barely seen grey streaks and blue eyed. Harry didn't really see what Clint saw in the man. Harry looked down at his plate, suddenly losing all appetite. Harry peeked up to the bar where his Dad was with… the other. The man leaned down and whispered something in Clint's ear. Harry shivered when the man looked directly at him while whispering in his Dad's ear.

Yes, his Dad definitely needed to get better taste in guys… younger, nicer guys…

Harry sighed and peeking a look again to his Dad and his… friend, he decided to go to the motel. He couldn't eat, not while watching Clint flirt with a total stranger that could've been Harry's Grandpa – and wasn't that idea repulsing? – and his Dad wasn't exactly giving him much attention so he'd might as well head back. Harry stood and went to the chop-house's door and peeked back, just to make sure his Dad wouldn't notice that he was leaving, before he left the place.

Today was one of those days Harry wished that Phillip was alive and that he was there. The man would've probably gotten angry with Dad for leaving a 10 years old boy all alone in a street like that. Well, if Phillip was alive they wouldn't be living on the run…

Harry sighed, grabbed a small staff from his pocket and started to play with it, enlarging it to walking-stick size and then back to hand size, passing it from one hand to another… Harry suddenly narrowed his eyes before enlarging the staff to its full length and then, quickly, slammed its bottom on the floor with strength creating a wave or air around him. Harry took a deep breath at hearing the men groan in pain as they werethrown backwards and shrank his staff as he ran away. Why did Dad choose today to find a man?

"Meow."

Harry looked at the sound to see a black cat with green eyes in a dark corner, he dared a quick look behind and then hid with the cat in the dark corner. Not long later the men passed by him running, stopping near the corner for a few terrifying seconds, but the cat quickly moved into the light, convincing them to move on since obviously their target wasn't there. Harry leaned against the wall, sitting on the floor and hugging his legs. He hated these kind of men. Mercenaries that wanted to sell Harry in the black market as a whore or as a slave… or worse the paedophileswho thought Harry was easy prey… and then there were the assassins. Harry had met them all. Hell, his own Dad fit in the last one. But that didn't meant that he wanted to be like him. Harry loved people. The Dursley were awful people, but if Dad could be an assassin and still be the Father of the year, so could the other people… if only they were given a chance…

Harry snorted, not too long ago he wasn't giving the man - who his Dad was practically kissing - a chance. But hell it was a stranger that wanted to get into his own Dad's pants! He deserved the right to not trust the guy!

Harry started to pet the cat when it returned to his lap, laying on his belly and legs because of Harry's odd position. Finally, when he was starting to grow mesmerized with the cat's purring a man appeared before him. Harry enlarged his staff at once, ready to use the few spells he knew if he had to.

"What happened?" Harry relaxed at hearing his Dad's voice and found himself crying as Clint kneeled before him, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Did someone touch you?"

"No… but I used magic to escape." Harry managed to say between his hiccups.

Clint hummed and squeezed Harry's shoulder, before standing.

"Go to the motel right away and lock the windows and door." He ordered before Harry heard him prepare his gun and leave, running.

Harry sighed and stood with the cat in his arms. He knew better than to disobey a direct order from Clint. It was apparently easy to return to the motel, the waiting for his Dad not so much. The black cat refused to leave and stayed with him all the way, which Harry was grateful for. A couple hours later Harry heard the sound of steps as someone approached their door.

"Sacha, it's me. Let me in, Chick."

Harry sighed relieved and went to open the door on Clint. Clint entered tiredly and sat before Harry on his bed, laying the gun over the mattress.

"Sorry." Harry mumbled after a while of dead silence.

Clint sighed.

"Honestly Harry… sometimes I think you go looking for trouble."

"I don't… I swear!"

Clint nodded and stood stretching his back.

"Have you packed?" Harry nodded. "Good, then let's go. And next time you hide in an alley, avoid purring cats!"

Harry blushed but nodded. The two left the motel and Harry watched as his Dad stole someone's car and drove them away from there as fast as he could.

"I'm sorry…"

"You said that before."

"But… that man…"

Clint finally looked away from the road to Harry, amused.

"Don't worry, kiddo. Men like that one are a dime a plenty. Besides you told me to start seeing other people, that doesn't mean I have to compromise. It was just going to be a one night thing, maybe not even that… no man in the world is going to be more important than you… norwomen… and not even Phillip!"

Harry felt touched and went deep red, quickly looking the other way. He wished he could have brought along the cat now so he would have something to do with his hands.

"But you need to learn how to hide better. If I wanted I could've killed you all the way from the main street."

"You have better sight than any other person." Harry argued.

"And there are worst people out there than me… trust me, I know!"

Harry sighed and nodded.

"Yes, Dad."

Clint grabbed Harry's hand over the gear shift.

"Your powers are growing stronger… I saw the mess you did and I have to say I'm impressed… hell I felt it all the way from the pub, so you can only guess how powerful that was."

"You're just saying that because you're my father." Harry argued making Clint laugh.

"Okay… maybe I'm a little biased, but you are powerful. Kari herself says it."

Harry pouted but nodded.

"Do I want to know why they wanted me?"

Clint stayed in silence for a few minutes and Harry wondered if he would've answer, until he did.

"Drunk teens who saw you at the bar and found you an easy target for an… experiment."

Harry shivered. That didn't sound too good.

"You killed them, didn't you?"

"You know I had to. They saw you doing magic even if by tomorrow they could maybe forget it all, they could still remember and the 'right' people would've heard of you and your powers… we can never be too careful!"

"Are you mad at me?"

"You could've had hidden better…" Clint started and Harry flinched, knowing it to be true. "But I'm proud that you managed to use your staff to protect yourself so well…" Harry grinned back. "But don't ever disappear on me like that again!"

"But…"

"Man or no man. It's night and I told you how dangerous the world is out there!" Clint reprimanded and Harry sighed nodding. "You are the best thing that ever happened to me, so don't disappear on me like that."

"Yes, Dad."

"I do love you, Harry. You know that, right?"

"Yes Dad, and I love you too."

**–CH–**

Halloween, 31 October, 1990

Harry looked at himself in the mirror in the motel they were staying that night. It didn't really mattered where, what mattered was that today was Halloween, witches night and the day his parents died. Clint always insisted in celebrating the holiday to thank his parents and show them that their Son was happy on this day that the line between life and death was so close. Harry sighed at looking at the Pugsley Addams costume his Dad had bought for him, it was so big that made him feel like he was dressing Dudley's clothes again… he just didn't feel right in them…

"Dad…" he started tentatively, not wanting for the nineteen years old male to find the real truth. Dad hummed in answer by his side on the mirror as he prepared himself. "I'm not certain I can play Pugsley..." he started unsure. "I'm not cousin Dudley after all." he added and whimpered at his slip, before he looked at his dad to see the fake moustache he was putting on "Mon Pere?" he added amused when the man didn't seem to be listening on.

Clint looked at Harry at once amused.

"Tish, that's French!" the man stated as if surprised and made a move of going to grab Harry's arm.

Harry threw his tongue at his Dad, moving away to safe distance before taking the outfit out. He wasn't sure if he could keep the little food he had in his stomach with the way his belly was writhing at the idea that those clothes could fit Dudley…

"I don't think I can play the Addams Family, Dad." He mumbled.

"Why not? It's your favourite show." Clint asked surprised, finally giving Harry attention.

"I know..." and how would he get out of that one? "But I'm just not cut out for it..." he tried to say and then his eyes found the comics he had by the side with his favourite hero in the front. That's it! "I'm more like Captain America, you know?" he finished pointedly.

Clint's eyes grew and Harry wondered if the man had caught him in his lie.

"Give me a minute…" he mumbled before taking the moustache and running off from their motel room.

Harry frowned confused. Where in the hell could his Father run off to?

Clint returned half-hour later in which Harry used to take a bath - trying to take the damn feeling of disgust for using Dudley's clothes again out of his skin - with a suit in one hand and a Captain America outfit for children in another. Harry wondered why he wanted the suit, he already had one on for Gomez Addams after all.

"Here it is. Captain America and the hottest agent there is."

Harry's eyes grew looking at the suit with more attention in order to see the details; the black pants and jacket, the blue shirt with sleeves, the black belt with an iron buckle, the blue with white strays tie, the black 'expensive' shoes, the black dark glasses, the iron wrist-watch… Harry raised an eyebrow at his Dad. Clint grinned and leaned Harry's costume on one of the beds before showing Harry the wrist-watch.

"Are you seeing this? It's vintage! And this?" The man added, using a tone of voice that Harry supposed was him incorporating Phillip, and grabbed the glasses. "Were only made 20 of them." Harry frowned as Clint went to grab Harry's card collection with the Captain America. "And of course… the most important part of the costume, I almost forgot."

Harry's eyes grew.

"Phillip liked Captain America?"

Clint snorted as he started to dress himself.

"If he liked Captain America he says… if I didn't knew that the man's love for Captain America wasn't love love I would be jealous of his infatuation." Dad argued making Harry snort. "Now go dress up."

Harry nodded with a grin and run to his costume. Dressing the blue, red and white costume of Captain America and finishing with putting on the mask on his head, only his eyes and mouth being able to see. Harry approached the window and looked at himself and smiled. He liked this costume. Harry turned to his Dad to see him finishing putting gel on his hair in order to tame it and look more like Phillip, or what Harry supposed he would've look like, before grabbing two pairs of red boots that he helped Harry dress and giving him his shield they left the house to go trick or treat.

**–CH–**

Harry was bored. Until now all he had managed were a couple of men to hint on his Dad while Harry was asking them for candies… HONESTLY! The man was dressed up as an agent! Not was a man in suit taking a child trick or treat because he had to… Some men were really disgusting!

"Autch…" Harry mumbled as he fell on his ass, having just bumped into someone as he run from yet another house where the man was hinting on Harry's Dad.

Harry looked up to ask sorry when his voice went missing. Before him was a red haired woman with curly long locks, as pale - or paler - as Harry, with a white tight t-shirt and black tight pants. The woman smiled at Harry and offered him the hand, helping him stand.

"I'm sorry, mal'chik. Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

Harry took the hand, standing and tilted his head to the side. Mal'chik? Wasn't that Russian for boy? Then could this mean…

"I'm fine, thank you. I'm Sacha."

"Pleasure to meet you Sasha." The woman said with a smile.

"No… Sacha with a c." The woman smirked amused but nodded. "That one over there is my Dad, by the way." Harry stated as his Father suddenly realized he was alone and run to him. "Do you know what we are dressed as?" he asked hopefully… if he did his part well then he would manage to keep her close and no more men hinting on his Dad in front of him for tonight!

"Well, Sacha, with all those colours I presume that you're dressed as the American known hero: Captain America." Harry nodded with a grin as his Father arrived at his side, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezing it in warning. The woman turned to Dad. "And I supposed that FBI?"

Harry shook his head.

"No, Dad is dressed as the hottest agent there is."

"Did he now? And who is this agent name?" The woman inquired amused at Harry's answer.

Harry grinned.

"Phillip, my name's sake." He answered and before Dad could send the woman away he asked. "Will you go trick or treating with us? Oh but you don't have a costume on... Why don't you have a costume?" he wondered, looking at her clothes.

"You make a lot of questions." The woman commented.

Harry nodded with a huge smile.

"Dad says that he'll be sad if I don't ask the questions that I'm thinking in my mind." He answered truthfully, before turning to his Dad. "Isn't it right, Dad?"

Clint nodded, not quite taking his eyes of the woman.

"I'm not sure if it is…" The woman started but Clint interrupted her.

"Please, would you do this for my son? He really took a liking to you." Clint requested and Harry gave his Dad one of his biggest smiles.

The ginger woman took a peek behind her and then at Harry in wonder.

"Well, I suppose that a few hours won't hurt. Come on Sacha, which house do you want to go next?" The woman asked and Harry grabbed her hand with a huge smile before pulling her to the next house, maybe this night wouldn't be so bad after all…

**–CH–**

Clint looked at Natasha as Harry pushed her from one side to the other. How his Son had managed to bump into the woman he didn't know and although he was happy for seeing her again… he knew that she being here meant that she was in a job.

"Trick or Treat!" Harry exclaimed as soon as the person opened the door and the old lady smiled at the hyper boy before offering him the candies.

The old woman looked at both Clint and Nat behind Harry and Clint wondered if she thought that they were Harry's older siblings or if they were his parents… it wasn't hard for Clint to know what Harry had been doing when he invited Nat. Now the men hinted on Nat instead of Clint.

"So…" Clint started as Harry ran off to the next door. "I failed to hear your name, Miss." He said at Nat.

The Black Widow looked at him with an amused look.

"Well, how can you not recognise the Mother of your Son, Agent Phillip?" She taunted.

Clint snorted and looked at Harry again as the boy run towards them.

"So that's your costume then? Sacha's Mother." He said, loud enough for Harry to hear.

"What about you, Agent Phillip? Which costume is the real one? The Agent or the Father?" the woman retorted.

Clint hummed. As much as this was Natasha… she wasn't His Natasha. He couldn't trust her. She was a Russian spy after all.

"That's for me to know… and for you to find out." He argued and the woman nodded not arguing.

**–CH–**

Clint left Harry in the motel and put on the Hawkeye suit and mask. The boy looked at him drowsily as he did it before his eyes closed and the young male fell asleep on the mattress. Clint approached and kissed him on the cheek before leaving the motel room with his bow and arrow and running into a building and climbing all the way into the roof. Clint prepared his bow and arrow and waited…

Suddenly Clint opened his fingers, letting go of the arrow and it shot all the way to the other side of the street into the window and into the alarm system that started ringing loud and clear. The black figure inside stopped suddenly and turned to the alarm system, run to it, took the arrow out, and then she looked directly at Clint. All that in mere seconds. By the time she had a gun in her hand Clint had another arrow at ready. There was a moment of silence as the two faced each other, Black Widow with more risks of being hit than Clint… and then they heard the sound of the police cars' sirens arriving. Before the cars even got a chance at parking both Clint and Natasha where long gone.

Clint didn't know what his once best friend was going to steal for Russia, but he had stopped her.

**(TBC)**

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Hi

My longest chapter… EVER! Hope you all liked it.

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Next: Kari's death and Barney returns…

~Isys

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